


Pathetic

by MiloBettany



Category: Danish Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 22:38:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3505364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiloBettany/pseuds/MiloBettany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You bump into MM during a visit at the book store. You don´t know why, but you need to follow him. Fortunately he knows exactly why you are following.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Puh, this is a older one. I hope it´s the proof read version. 
> 
> Enjoy and thank you for kudos and comments.

You saw him a long time before he noticed you. His light gray hair fell into his face, lining his high forehead with the soft creases. He stood with his straight back to you, dressed with a sports jacket and jeans, his hands resting in the back pockets. He acts like the feeling young middle-aged man with his huge apartment, two ex-wives and a bunch of children. But maybe it was just a facade like your own behaviour.

No one would what you´re looking for. Understated and silent you stand behind him, smelling his wooden scent like a addicting drug. You lean a bit forward till your nose is close to his dark brown jacket. You have to know what cologne he´s using.

Slowly he turns his head and gazes at you with his brown eyes. Like a few volts the shock being caught rushes through your veins. He makes no move as the elevator arrives and the golden doors open with a silent ping. He looks at you again and steps into the lift, turning around and faces you. Softly he smirks and lays his head a bit slop, like expecting you to follow him.

With shaky knees you step next to him, staring at the floor. What are you doing here? You followed him like five blocks ago, like he´s a ratter. Hypnotizing you with the sweet melody of his presence. He presses the button for his floor and the door is closing. He says no word, nor is he looking at you as you reach the second floor and walking along the silent hallway. He fishes his keys out of his trousers and stops in front of a door to unlock it.

In a small distance you stand behind him, not knowing what to do know. He looks at you with a deep gaze and opens the door, steps into the apartment without closing it, a silent invitation to follow him. The sound of your slow steps is choked by the thick black carpet as you enter his living room after closing the front door noiseless.

He sits in a fireplace chair, his lean legs crossed, facing you directly. You look around. This must be his living room. A set of leather seats standing in front of a cold fireplace, amounts of shelves bursting of books standing ceiling high on nearly every wall of the room.

“In wide parts of the planet it´s a pure offense to stalk people, you know?”, he says friendly, his rumbling voice tickling every spot of your body. With a amused smirk he sips on the crystal glass with liquor and observes you head to toe while the fingertips of his hand strokes tenderly upon the dull leather.

“I´m not stalking you...” you say shy and claw your fingers into your coat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed that half of the chapter is missing.... here's the full chapter XD

You saw him a long time before he noticed you. His light gray hair fell into his face, lining his high forehead with the soft creases. He stood with his straight back to you, dressed with a sports jacket and jeans, his hands resting in the back pockets. He acts like the feeling young middle-aged man with his huge apartment, two ex-wives and a bunch of children. But maybe it was just a facade like your own behaviour.

No one would what you're looking for. Understated and silent you stand behind him, smelling his wooden scent like a addicting drug. You lean a bit forward till your nose is close to his dark brown jacket. You have to know what cologne he's using.

Slowly he turns his head and gazes at you with his brown eyes. Like a few volts the shock being caught rushes through your veins. He makes no move as the elevator arrives and the golden doors open with a silent ping. He looks at you again and steps into the lift, turning around and faces you. Softly he smirks and lays his head a bit slop, like expecting you to follow him.

With shaky knees you step next to him, staring at the floor. What are you doing here? You followed him like five blocks ago, like he's a ratter. Hypnotizing you with the sweet melody of his presence. He presses the button for his floor and the door is closing. He says no word, nor is he looking at you as you reach the second floor and walking along the silent hallway. He fishes his keys out of his trousers and stops in front of a door to unlock it.

In a small distance you stand behind him, not knowing what to do know. He looks at you with a deep gaze and opens the door, steps into the apartment without closing it, a silent invitation to follow him. The sound of your slow steps is choked by the thick black carpet as you enter his living room after closing the front door noiseless.

He sits in a fireplace chair, his lean legs crossed, facing you directly. You look around. This must be his living room. A set of leather seats standing in front of a cold fireplace, amounts of shelves bursting of books standing ceiling high on nearly every wall of the room.

"In wide parts of the planet it's a pure offense to stalk people, you know?", he says friendly, his rumbling voice tickling every spot of your body. With a amused smirk he sips on the crystal glass with liquor and observes you head to toe while the fingertips of his hand strokes tenderly upon the dull leather.

"I'm not stalking you..." you say shy and claw your fingers into your coat.

"No?" he says and stands up, walks slowly close to you. He is taller than you, more than one head even you wear your heels. He lifts his hand and opens the belt of your coat slowly. 

"What shall we call your act then?", he ask while he opens the buttons.

You swallow and stare into his eyes. They're icy, like brown diamonds. But his look has something soft, tender, nearly calming. He won't scare you. Basically he seems to be interested in something, you just can't figure out what it is yet.

"I don't know... I just saw you in the book store and had to follow you..." you stutter. He was standing in front of the shelves with the erotic novels, holding "50 shades of gray" in his hands while he looked at it in true disgust. At first you thought he'd be one of these prude haters but then you heard him whisper "Pathetic...". He wasn't disgusted by the story or the content. It seems like he was disappointed of something. Like his high expectations haven't been satisfied.

"Why do you think 50 shades is pathetic?" you ask curious while he takes your coat off. His snort tickles your neck as he stands behind you and lays your coat on the lean of one of the seats. "It's far away from reality and showing the female world a sort of playing this game who's nearly impossible. Which woman with a healthy mind would give her into the hands of a brainfucked sadist?" he answers and strokes with both hands upon your upper arms.

"Don't worry. I've no traumas you have to fix..." he whispers softly into you ear and sits down in his seat, the glass again in his hand. With a wide smile he crosses his legs again and looks down to your feet.

"Take your shoes off..." he says strict but friendly, like a father commanding his child. There is nothing dangerous in his presence. He is in charge, even through his calming attitude you can sense it. Eager to follow his command you slip out of her heels, shivering luxurious as your naked feet touch the soft fabric of the carpet. You wiggle your toes a bit, savoring the feeling to it's full.

Gladly you had a pedicure before you went to the book store so you don't have to worry about the look of your feet.

"Lay you down on the arm rest, darling?" he says with a deep voice as he nods in direction of the huge leather coach. With a doubtful look you walk over to the couch. The arm rest is high enough so you can lean upon it and still stand. You lay yourself down, steadying you with your hands on the seat. Wondering you look at him while he swallows the rest of his drink and gets up. Slowly, like a panther observing his prey he takes his jacket of and rolls the sleeves of his shirt up. His strong underarms are covered with a light fur of gray hair, leading to his big hands with those long fingers.

Being punished by him must be a delicious experience.

He stands behind you, laying his hands upon the hollows of your knee and spread them a bit more till you stand on your tiptoes. "That's much better...." he mumbles and walks over to a dark shelve. He opens a drawer and takes four robe rolls out of them.

With no word you stare at them as he puts them in front of you and takes one in his hand. "Don't worry. If you're not comfortable with anything just say "Mark", okay?" he says with a soft smile. You nod while staring at the robe in his hands. With a amused smirk he stand behind you again and goes on his knees, wraps the robe around the base of the couch and binds your left feet with the end. He does the same with your right feet and strokes softly upon your legs as he's finished. "Does it hurt?", he asks and you shake your head.

You can hear your blood rushing through your ears while your wet hands are still resting in the smooth leather. He goes to the end of the couch opposite of your head and wraps the last robes around the base. With both strings in his hands he sits in front of you so your head rests between his legs.

You can see the huge bulge of his manhood forcing against the zipper of his trouser like a wild beast trying to escape it's cage. He makes no move to confront you with his boner nor seems he to be irritated in any way because of his arousal. Softly he strokes upon the back of your head. "Give me your hands...." he whispers tender.

You feel in a cheeky mood, provoked by the surreal situation and his more than experienced behavior. Without facing him you rest your cheeks on the seat and lay your hands upon his crotch. You can feel his rod twitching by your soft touch. He makes no sound or move, his hand still on the back of your head. "Did I allow you to touch me?" he asks and continues to pet you.

"No..." you whisper suspicious and lift your head a bit to look into his face. "You know that this will make your punishment even harder?" he asks with a joyful smile and binds your wrists together. He gets up and straightens the rob around your head so you lay elongated upon the arm rest. You can't move any centimeters after he's finished.

Slowly he walks around you and leaves the room. You hear no noise as suddenly your skirt is stroked up upon your hips. "Well, if that's no delicious view...." he mumbles as his hands stroke upon the goose flesh of your buttocks. Tender his fingertips wander down the small of your back and between your cheeks, stroking upon the damp fabric of your knickers. "Oh, darling, how will you explain that?" he asks playful and smacks one of your cheeks softly.

You're so surprised that you scream unexpected loud. "Oh, no need to become hysterical, love..." he says and breaths a soft cheek in the warm skin his hand touched earlier. He grabs the band of your panties and pulls them in slow-mo down, between your ankles. You can feel his warm breath touching your swollen fold before he gets up again.

"What do you think, how many slaps does a misbehaving little one deserves for stalking her master and touching his private parts without permission?" he asks teasingly and pets your cheeks.

You're not sure if you will manage his choice of number, so you decide to suggest a realistic number. "Ten?" you say with a itching voice.

"Ten..." he seems to think about it. With a smack he shakes his hand, sighs.

"Well, lets meet in the middle. Fifteen..." he says strict and spreads your back. With slowly movements he rubs something round and smooth between your folds and inserts it very slowly. You feel his fingers digging the love pearl deep into your body. Scissoring his fingers he pulls them out as they toy starts to vibrate slowly, stimulating the deepest spots in your core.

"As more slaps you receive as more intensive it will stimulate you..." he says with a dark voice. You can feel his hand floating above your butt.

"Are you ready?"


End file.
